


Forward and Through

by SennexTheAssasinKingOfLight



Category: Cursed (TV 2020)
Genre: Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Sad and Sweet, Self-Worth Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 19:39:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30077310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SennexTheAssasinKingOfLight/pseuds/SennexTheAssasinKingOfLight
Summary: Gawain just needs a minute to himself after the failure at Moycraig Mill.Squirrel sees.
Relationships: Gawain | The Green Knight & Squirrel | Percival (Cursed)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	Forward and Through

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why i cant tag on mobile but whatever.  
> Have more tags.  
> Uhm, mentor like relationship, sorrow, nothing is resolved. 
> 
> Anywyas my brain wouldn't leave me alone about this and I couldn't sleep so I wrote this instead.

It is surprisingly easy to slip away and he has never been so grateful for anything in his life. Gawain walks past so many individuals coming towards the gathering where Nimue had named herself queen and very few even acknowledge him. He should know all their faces but they are blurring together as his eyes water. Instead of looking at them, assuring them, he keeps his head down, clenches his teeth and hunches his shoulders. He marches past the main camp site, down the hill, beyond the cliff and towards their water source. He follows the narrow river down and around two bends and into a small glen where it splits into two and pools in a small pond. 

He's never been here before but it's the perfect place for what he needs. The water is fresh, and running nearby. The rippling and lapping of liquid against stone soothing. The brush and birch trees have grown up hiding this spot from prying eyes save how he had gotten in. There was a narrow strip of dry land beside a large willow blocking the way in. With a sigh he sits on a an oddly shaped boulder and let's the wind caress him as it blows through the reeds. It's then, alone in this still little space cut off from the rest of his people with only the frogs and squirrels for company that Gawain let's his composure slip. 

He inhales a deep breath and when he let's it out it is shaky and pained. With it rises every emotion he has pushed down. Anguish, pain, sadness, bitterness, even anger. He is uninjured physically, but for the umpteenth time in his life he has watched a friend die for the greater good and been unable to stop it. He picks up a handful of rocks and let's them fall one by one into the pond. Watchs listlessly as the ripples spread across its surface and double back over themselves. How many rocks are at the bottom of the pond? Do the ones he is adding make any difference? 

Bergerem and Kaze are the last to know him as a peer. The leader of the Tusk clan is someone Gawain looks up too, but who he knows he is letting down. Bergerem is dead, their mission failed. Plop. How many will starve because of his incompetence? How many more will die? And Nimue, his dear little sister, Lenors daughter proclaiming herself queen. It is not what he had meant. It is not the path he would have asked her to walk. It cannot be undone now no matter how hard he wishes it. They can only move forward.

Plop. Plop. He lets the rest of the stones fall from his hand and the tumble against the ground by his feet with a soft ruckus. Some land on his boots and others roll into the water with little splashes. 

He weeps. Grasps his knees tightly in his hands and leans over. Nails digging into the flesh beneath his trousers. There is no one here to witness the Green Knight, protector and guardian of the Fey coming undone. No one he can fail with his weakness and shame. No one he must offer strength or guidance or council too. He doesn't have to hold his head high, be sensible and make the hard choices. No one for whom he must hold his head high and be brave. No one for whom he must be chivalrous and kind. No one for whom he must bend or stand firm. Not right now. Not here in the little alcove of quiet among the chaos of war. 

At the same time, there is no one here to comfort Gawain the man who would sacrifice his ever fibre of being to protect his people. Gawain who gave up surgeon's hands for a broad sword or battle axe. Clean linens for armor, salves for sword oil. Gawain who would tear out his heart and hand it over if it stopped yours from breaking. Gawain who is flippant and perhaps flamboyant. Who loves deeply and freely. 

No, here in this pocket of space he is a broken man free to revel in brokenness and heart break. To grieve the cost of war and mourn his friends and loves. Here he does not bear the responsibility of the people on his shoulders. Here his sorrow can be real and tangible and take a form beyond training to the point of collapsing. He allows himself the freedom afforded to others. Weeps late into the afternoon. Heavy shuttering sobs from deep in his chest wriggle their way up his throat. The frogs crack and the squirrels chatter. The world spins around him and he remains as he is, a single witness to his truth.

He coughs and wipes his nose with his elbow, presses the palms of his hands against his eyes and wills the tears to stop. He has nothing left to give of himself, or of the Green Knight. He is just a man like any other, tired and beaten down. Yet he must get it together. He may not be in charge any longer, but he is still needed. Nimue will need him to help lead, to understand the cultures of the other tribes. Young Squirrel wants to be a knight and wishes to seek vengeance, he can at least teach him how to stay alive. 

He bows his head and draws in deep shaky breaths. The air is growing chilled as the sun sets in the horizon and his teeth chatter. His joints ache with the cold as he pushes himself to his feet. He should have been back ages ago. Slowly he surveys the spot a final time and commits it to memory. He would like to come back here. Slipping past the willow he starts back up the riverbank. 

"Green Knight, Sir." Percivals voice rings out in the air and he stops in his tracks. Straightening his back he looks around but cannot see the boy. 

"What is it?" He asks, keeping his voice as neutral as possible. It is raw and coarse from disuse and the ache that accompanies tears. He Hope's not to face the boy, he knows the evidence is clear on his face where the tear tracks have washed away the debris of the battle field. 

"I…." Percival comes around to face him from behind and Gawain closes his eyes and takes a deep breath then opens them and exhales. Percival's eyes are as blue as his mothers had been. And they look at him with that same earnest unyielding defiance and knowing. He swallows. 

" I heard you sir. And I know I'm only a boy, but sir…. You don't have to be alone." Squirrel says boldly and rushes forward crushing him in a surprisingly strong embrace. His brain doesn't catch up until percival has pulled away and started to turn. He cant help it as he pulls the boy into another hug. He wont let him shoulder the burden, won't tell him the entirety of what's going on in his head, but he appreciates the boys meaning.

"Come on," he says putting his arm around Squirrels shoulders, "I'm sure Nimue is waiting on us." 

There is only one way they can go, one thing they can do; move forward and push through, and it is his job to see that they make it.


End file.
